A Heroes Story - Standing Tall
by TKids4ever
Summary: LeBeau tells his story to his grandson after he finds on old picture left in the attic. Chapter 3 is up! I'm open to any ideas and critical review.
1. Picture in the Attic

If there was one thing that young Jean LeBeau hated, it was cleaning out a house. Jean would much rather be outside playing in the yard than helping his family go through all the closets and throwing out all the junk that had been in there for years. It was all useless old stuff that his grandfather, Louis LeBeau, had saved over the years, claiming that they were too special to just throw away.

"I don't want to clean out the house," he had argued. "It is just fine the way it is."

"Yes it is, if you want to want to live in a pig pen," his daughter, Nichole stated, her hands on her hips. Her voice then softened as she placed her arm around Louis' shoulders. "Mama has been gone for 3 years, and still you stay in this big house by yourself. You don't need this much space, and you certainly don't need all the junk stashed in your closets. It is time to clean it all out and look for a smaller place."

Jean knew that his grandfather didn't care for that idea. The house he had lived in for the last 40 years was his home. It was where he had brought his wife, Jean's grandmother, home after their honeymoon. He had taught his children to walk across the hardwood kitchen floor. The old recliner in the living room was where he would sit and tell his children stories about his childhood years in Avallon, a small town in central France, and then later his grandchildren. Moving would mean losing a lot of those memories, or at least leaving them behind.

Jean's thoughts were interrupted when he heard his mother, Susan, calling for him as she walked toward where he stood in front of the closet he was supposed to be cleaning. He hated the idea of having to get back to work, so he looked around quickly for a place to hide. The upstairs hall he was in had already been cleared out except for a few closets, so there weren't many options for the 10 year old boy. He was about to give up and answer his mother's call when he remembered the attic room. Nobody ever went up there since it was only used as a storage area, so surely his mother wouldn't think that he would go up there to hide. With his plan ready, Jean quickly went to the door and climbed up the old steps, hoping to find refuge from all the cleaning.

Thinking quickly, he headed toward the darkest corner of the attic and ducked behind a stack of boxes filled with old cooking utensils. He listened for his mothers footsteps, hoping that if she did come up here, she wouldn't find him hiding. He needn't have worried for after a minute he heard his mothers footsteps heading back downstairs to where the others were working.

He sat there for several minutes before he started to get bored. He looked around, hoping that something might catch his interest. His eyes found a box marked "model air planes." Jean's love for air-crafts drove him forward to explore the contents. He tore the box open and knew a moment of disappointment when there were no air planes inside, but then his eyes grew wide when he realized what was inside. There in front of him was an old military uniform. Jean frowned in confusion. No one in their family had ever been in the army, so what was the uniform doing in his grandfather's attic? He pulled the uniform out and continued to dig through the box until it was completely empty. He glanced at the contents of the box that were now spread out on the attic floor around his feet.

His confusion heightened as he picked up a set of dog tags with his grandfathers name engraved on them. _My grandpa was in the military? It can't be, it must be someone else, _Jean thought as he examined the rest of the items from the box. There were cooking instruments in the box, and an old recipe for apple strudel. He also found a sewing kit and a stack of playing cards. It was nothing exciting really, and it certainly had nothing to do with the military, but Jean still wondered about the uniform and the dog tags. It was then that Jean spotted a piece of paper with the number 1945 written on it. He pulled it out from under the rest of the items and turned it over in his hands to reveal that it was actually a picture.

The first thing he noticed was a younger Louis LeBeau standing front and center. The man in the picture was wearing the uniform that Jean had found in the box and he had a huge smile on his face. Around him stood 4 other men in different uniforms. The one on the right wore the uniform of a British corporal. He wore a mischievous grin on his face, like he was about to pull a prank on someone. Next to him was a young man in an American uniform. He seemed to be the happiest among the group of men, with a childlike smile on his face. Next came a black man, also in American uniform. He seemed to be more serious than the others, but he seemed genuinely pleased. What about, Jean didn't know. The last man, Jean noticed, was an American colonel. His eyes weren't looking at the camera as the others were, but were instead focused on the others with a look of pride. It was obvious that he was the leader of the bunch and was very proud of it, but why would he be in charge of those men? They were from different countries, they would never have been in the same outfit if this was indeed a picture from the war.

Jean was so engrossed in studying the picture that he never realized someone had joined him in the attic until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around to see his grandfather staring at the picture in his hands. Jean held it out for his grandfather to take and watched as he carefully sat down on an old trunk nearby. Jean was shocked to see tears form in the eyes of the tired man.

"It has been a long time since I saw this picture." LeBeau whispered.

"Who are those men Grandpa?" Jean asked, joining his grandfather on the trunk. Together they sat in silence until at last LeBeau looked at his grandson with a smile.

"Those are heroes Jean. Real heroes." he said, with pride. Then pointing at each individual he gave their names. "This one is me of course, and this one here is Corporal Peter Newkirk. Then there are Sergeants Andrew Carter and James Kinchloe, though we called him Kinch. And that there is Colonel Hogan. He was the leader of our group."

"Where was the picture taken, grandpa? In France?"

LeBeau once again grew quiet as he thought for a moment. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Jean about Stalag 13. Or perhaps it was that he wasn't ready for it. He had never spoken of the war to his children. His sons, Andre and Pierre, and his daughter, Nichole, were aware that he had been in the war, but that was all they knew. They knew nothing about Stalag 13 or the men that LeBeau had served with while stationed there. LeBeau had just never found the right time to share his story with them. Now here was his grandson, asking him where a picture was taken, and suddenly LeBeau didn't know what to say.

"Well," he started, "this picture was taken at Stalag 13, a prison camp in Germany during the war."

"You were in a prison camp?" Jean asked, astonished that he hadn't known. There were a lot of things that he didn't know of course, but he would never have guessed that his grandpa was a soldier. He then looked back at the picture and started wondering about all the men. They all seemed so happy, but his grandpa had just said they were all prisoners. His grandfather had never spoken of the war, but Jean had heard from his friend's grandparent about their experiences in the war. They usually told about all the great battles they had fought in, but there was one man who had been a prisoner of war, and he had told Jean about the horrors of war. Jean remember having nightmares for days after the man told him about how they had been half starved and sick almost all the time, and how the German soldiers had forced them to work and then beaten them when they didn't work fast enough, yet the men in the picture were happy.

"Why are you all so happy if you were in prison? I thought the prison camps were horrible places."

"Some were, Jean. Some were, but the camp I was in was special." he said with a smile.

"What made it so special?" Jean asked, curiously.

LeBeau tilted his head as he thought of everything he could say in answer to that question. "I suppose it was the friends I made there, and how it changed my life forever." LeBeau sat thinking for a long moment before putting his arm around his grandson and holding him close to his side.

"Grandpa?" Jean asked.

"Yes."

"What was the war like?"

"It changed my life, Jean, and for the better I think." he replied with a soft smile on his face.

"How so?"

"That, Jean, is a long story."

**Authors Note: I'm open to critical review! I would really like to improve my writing. Also if you have any ideas on how the story might continue, let me know!  
**


	2. Toujours Paris

LeBeau couldn't help whistling a happy tune as he worked in the kitchen preparing dinner. Tonight was his night. He had finally graduated from being a cook's helper to being a cook, and tonight was his first chance to show his skill to the world. For 19 years he had trained under his fathers supervision for this night, and he was ready. No more waiting on customers, no more dishes. As the eldest LeBeau son, it was his responsibility to keep the family tradition and run the restaurant.

There was more to the tradition than simply running the restaurant, though. For generations, LeBeau men had worked to make the family restaurant a success, but each one of them had a greater dream inside. They longed to go to Paris with their skills and be known as one of the finest chefs in all of France. So far, none of the LeBeau men had made it, but Louis LeBeau was going to change that. He had caught hold of their dream and was determined to make his father proud. Somehow he would get to Paris and he would show the world what the LeBeau men could really do.

He stopped whistling as the door to the kitchen and his mother walked in with a bright smile on her face. "It is almost time for the guest to arrive Louis, dear. Is the food ready?"

"Just 5 more minutes and everything will be perfect." LeBeau replied, giving his mother a smile.

"An important guest is coming tonight. If you do well, he just might be your ticket to Paris."

"What?" LeBeau exclaimed. "Who is it? Who could take me to Paris?"

"Your cousin Emil, I'm sure you remember him. He recently inherited a large fortune and he is looking for a good investment opportunity. I was writing his mother and mentioned that you were a fabulous cook and were hoping to go to France to open your own place. Seeing as how you and Emil used to be good friends, she was sure that he would be wiling give you the money you need. All you have to do is convince him it isn't a crazy scheme."

"Oh mama! Is it possible that all my dreams are coming true tonight?"

His mother gave him a soft smile before turning and walking out of the kitchen. "We shall see, Louis, we shall see."

LeBeau could hardly believe his good fortune as he stood on the sidewalk looking at his very own restaurant. _Toujours Paris_ would be the finest restaurant in all of Paris in no time. LeBeau smiled as he looked at his cousin Emil who stood at his side. "We did it Emil. Our very own place."

Emil smiled in return. "Now all we have to do is find a good chef."

"Hey! What do you think I am here for?" LeBeau said, slapping Emil across the shoulder.

Emil laughed. He was very proud of what they had accomplished in a few months time. He had no doubt that LeBeau could turn this place into the finest restaurant in all the world, but he couldn't help but tease his cousin. "Alright LeBeau, you win. I will allow you to do the cooking, just make sure you stay out of the dining area. We can't have you falling in love with every girl who enters the dining room."

LeBeau flushed in embarrassment. Ever since coming to Paris three months before he had fallen helplessly in love with practically every girl he met. One night, after declaring how desperately in love he was with the hotel desk clerk to Emil, they had gone to a café where a cute waitress had served them. One glance at her and the hotel clerk was forgotten, and so it continued day after day. LeBeau already had a dozen phone numbers in his address book, but he never called one. Instead he would just meet a new girl each day and fall in love all over again.

"Will you ever settle down and marry a girl, LeBeau?"

"Who cares? For now I have my restaurant to run." LeBeau laughed. He was happy with his life. He had a city full of girls to choose from, a good friend in Emil, and he had _Toujours Paris. _Everything was perfect and he was sure that nothing in his life could ever go wrong again.


	3. From Peace to Terror

Months passed and _Toujours Paris_ slowly built up a good costumer base. The restaurant became so popular that LeBeau and Emil decided to hire a new chef to help LeBeau in the kitchen. After interviewing countless chefs they finally agreed on an elderly gentleman named Gerard. He was a quiet man, but he was a genius in the kitchen and LeBeau was grateful to have him. Gerard's son, Phillip, was also a great help. Phillip had volunteered to help serve tables when their former waitress had moved away, and his help had been greatly appreciated.

At 18, Phillip was only three years younger than LeBeau and the two of them quickly became good friends as they worked together in the kitchen. Much of their time they spent talking about the dates they supposedly had.

"Yesterday was magnificent." Phillip said his eyes sparkling. "Jacqueline is the sweetest girl in all of France. I am going to marry her."

LeBeau laughed, "Did you not say the same think about Marguerite last week?"

"But LeBeau, who can remember what happened then. That was a whole week ago." Phillip explained. He then turned to LeBeau with a mischievous grin on his face. "Besides, how many girls have you talked about this last week."

"That is different." LeBeau said in his own defense.

"How so?" Phillip teased, and together they erupted in a fit of laughter. They had often had many conversations about the girls they supposedly loved, and most of them ended in the helpless laughter they were in now. For LeBeau was never able to come up with a good reason his being in love with countless girls at once was different.

Life continued on in a similar way for the next 3 months, with Phillip and LeBeau becoming the best of friends. LeBeau was happy and he couldn't believe how fortunate where he was to do what he had always dreamed of. They were blissfully unaware of what was going on around them in the world. It wasn't until the first days of September 1939 that the boys realized that not everything was perfect in their world.

LeBeau and Phillip were laughing at the antics of some of their dinner customers when they heard the slight click of the outside door closing on the other side of the kitchen. Phillip looked up and smiled at his father.

"You must come see this. These people are so funny, father. The way they eat their soup is so proper they should be ashamed of themselves." he laughed, but his father did not join in as he usually did. Instead he simply took his apron from off the hook by the door and slowly put it on as he walked toward the stove.

LeBeau and Phillip shared a questioning glance before leaving their post by the dining room door to go stand by Gerard. "Is everything alright?" LeBeau asked.

"Have you boys not heard?" Gerard replied as he slowly looked up at the boys. He had always been a lively man, but LeBeau noticed that today Gerard seemed tired and worn. He remained silent, suddenly feeling like he did not want to know what had drug this normally cheerful man so low. Phillip, however, had no such thoughts.

"What is wrong, father?"

"Germany has invaded Poland."

Silence invaded the room as LeBeau and Phillip tried to comprehend what Gerard had said. Gerard hated having to tell them. If he could he would have let them continue on in their own happy world, but he feared that the world would feel the effects of what was now going on in Germany and Poland. Gerard had seen it once before in the Great War, and something told him that this invasion so tactfully staged by the Germans would lead to another war even worse than the one before. Phillip and LeBeau would no doubt be drawn into it, much like he had been.

Gerard shook his head as he turned back to his work. Phillip and LeBeau were so young. They were capable young men in so many ways, but Gerard knew that when it came to facing the terrors of war, these men before him were mere boys. He almost wished they wouldn't understand what was going on and that they could stay where they were, but that hope was lost with one simple question from his own son.

"What are we going to do?"


End file.
